Yesterday on my way home from work a feeling that I've never felt before crept over me. I was standing on the subway a few stops in when I began to notice all the young husbands and wives around me. They weren't coupled up but as individuals on their commute home from work. My mind wandered as I imagined what their marriage was like. Would their spouse be home waiting to greet them at the door. Would dinner be on the table or is tonight an impromptu date night. I began to think of my experience as a wife. I actually loved being a wife and might I add, despite the outcome of my marriage now, I was damn good at it too. I remember anticipating my ex husbands arrival home. I would be there waiting for him with open arms ready to embrace him with my love, hugs and kisses. I remember the surprise gifts I would give him and particularly gummy worms being his favorite. Our weekly date nights were Tuesday evenings which also happened to be my favorite day of the week. I remember being excited to come home to him and snuggling up to his 6'4 frame and body heat. I remember mornings being the hardest. I'm always cold and his warmth was preferred over any blanket. I enjoyed hearing about how his day went and his excitement as he shared with me his new music. I made it a habit to pray over him as he slept and I addressed him as a king so that he'd never forget. I prided myself in being his peace and voice of reason whether he utilized me or not. Even on our darkest days from the outside looking in you couldn't tell we were falling apart. I vowed to be a demonstration of love even in the midst of our hardships. I loved the hell out of him and I vowed to the rest of my life. By the time I got to my stop, tears had welled up in my eyes and I came to the realization that I miss being a wife.